illithidnapped | INBOX II

I do not care for the rotting old husk, either. Nor the brat from the sorceries shop, if I'm being entirely honest.

[There's only room for ~~one~~ two whinging, catty, utterly demanding brats in the same space.]

[See, now, there's a reason that Leto finds Rolan amusing in small doses. Other things he finds amusing: whenever Astarion forgets to use contractions. He does it himself, he knows— the word beast has entered into his vocabulary far more often than it ever used to— but it's sweet to see it reflected.]

You'd prefer the demoness over the husk? Though I suppose both stay in their respective corners.

Rolan surprises me, though. I thought you two would thrill in being catty at the rest— though his ego is enormous, so perhaps I should not be so shocked. [Leto likes him, but, like, again, in small doses.]

What about Shadowheart?

[Don't rush him??]

Say what you will, but at least the demoness is good to look at.

[Withers and Mizora might dress about the same when it comes to landmark measurements, but— I mean come on. Come on. There's no explanation needed here.]

What about Shadowheart?

[Oh, fine.]

Hard to know what to believe when it comes to followers of Shar— former or otherwise. For a long while, you might recall her capability for deception standing as a rather sturdy wall between us.

But I daresay it would be rather difficult to keep one's toddering old parents close at hand and still manage to come off as any sort of fearsome threat. Not that I would know of course, lacking any kin to speak of. But still. Even I can't deny the sincerity they wear in their senility. The fragility of it all.

She couldn't bare her teeth at our necks whilst showing us the most vulnerable fragments of her world.

Or if she is, then she's a much better disciple than I gave her credit for. Hats off, really.

[It's praise. He likes her.]

[Of course she’s good to look at, he’ll grumble later into the safety of Astarion’s neck, nipping pale skin with protective insistence. All the more reason to stay away from her. As if Astarion isn’t smart enough to do that on his own. But Leto is eternally a knight at heart, fiercely determined to defend that which matters most. Just as Astarion douses him in his scent, so too does Leto leave his own mark: insistent little bites that say mine, mine, mine . . .]

I like her.

[It’s not about him, but he says it more as agreement than to voice his own opinion.]

Far more than Lutece, if we're speaking of your acquaintances. But I suspect you’re right— it would take a great deal of unnecessary effort for her to maintain that lie. And she seems suited to you. Her humor runs macabre, which suits, and she has seen her share of the horrors of the world; she has not patronized either of us, and that is worth a lot.

Besides: she healed me. I suspect anyone who does that is worth a great deal in your eyes.

[A deliberate few seconds pass, and then:]

Is Wyll not unlike what you imagined me to be when we first met?

[He's teasing gently, sort of, and then again he's not.]

[Therein lies the real reason why Astarion truly favors Jenevelle or Shadowheart— whatever she goes by now— and has been for a while (all the injuries she'd mended; the care she took ensuring Leto not only survived the worst of his wounds, but without lingering scars to speak of—) yet his siblings were already upon them once. He won't make the mistake of baring his sole weakness to anyone that might take advantage of it.

Not even when speaking to said weakness directly.

(His smile is overt. He's living for the teasing—

And for the way he's being bitten.)]

Wyll doesn't blind me.

[A stop-start series of ink blots are the only bits of evidence for the war his mind is currently waging with his cock. Until finally:]

Allow me the pleasure of settling between your thighs tonight and I will show you just how deftly I’ve learned how to blind you, whether it be through tongue, prick, or blade itself.

But you will not distract me. We have half the inn left to go, and I wish to know your thoughts before I lose the chance. Gale, Karlach . . . Zevlor. I like him a great deal— more than most here. He is clever and experienced— a valuable ally, and one far more versed in tactics than I thought we might find. We have already come up with more than a few plans on ways to enter the palace.

Promise, little pup?

[Oh he hopes that tail is wagging.]

That he is clever. As is young Wyll, of course, but the boy has such a shine in his eyes still. [Something the world has not yet taken from him.] You always struck me more as Drizzt Do'urden, or Zevlor; withdrawn and nobly brooding, bearing the whole world's weight upon your shoulders.

As for Gale, he's....

[A pause.]

He's fine.

[It's Leto's turn to snort now, loud enough that the genasi walking in front of him looks mildly offended.]

Oh? Just fine?

[Be mean, Astarion. Be petty. Vindicate all his teenage rage and seething resentment.]

[ . . . but then he goes back, rereading that message, and adds:]

Will you fluster if I tell you I find it sweet you compare me to your Drizzt?

Not just sweet. Flattering. A compliment whose value I did not know the first time it was offered.

[That is, somehow, the absolute worst part of all of this: in growing fonder, he can't immediately summon up vitriol from the depths of his mistrusting soul. They're kinder creatures, even the worst of them— not you, Mizora— and they care enough to endure his snappish biting more than his siblings ever did across the span of two hundred endlessly long years.

His pen taps paper— then withdraws, then— ]

Oh I don't know, darling. He doesn't make me want to claw my eyes out anymore unless he lifts one of his stupid blunt-edged fingers and coughs out one of those signature 'ah ah ah's or 'ahem's.

And the same could be said of Karlach too, who is— in spite of the depths of her incessant pestering— quite adorable in her own way. Earnest, I suppose.

They're both too much most days, and if you tell any of them this I'll cut holes in your armor, but

well

they're not so terrible to exist near anymore.

—no

[Y e s.

In fact he's flustering right now. Twitching through his ears at the words your Drizzt within this context.

(Leto really is his own version of that shining, wondrous star some part of him had fawned over long, long ago ~~and definitely not anymore, that was a childhood fancy, thank you very much, and he is mature and grown and worldly now. So worldly.~~ And he is struck by the wonder of that realization every time it flickers to the forefront of his mind.)]

And you still don't understand its value, either. The fourth novel in Do'urden's Night of the Drow: A Heroic Tale series is still collecting dust on our tavern shelf, I ought to mention.

Edited 2025-11-22 03:20 (UTC)

[They're not so terrible to exist near anymore, and Leto smiles to himself as he reads it. It makes him glad, it truly does. Astarion need not repeat the same steps Leto himself had all those years ago, for he has no doubt his husband would continue to grow and heal regardless of companions or lack thereof— but there's something a little wonderful about being among people you love and trust. Or, if not that, at least might learn to someday.

Even if they annoy you to no end some days.

But he won't say so. Pointing it out will only make Astarion snap, and anyway, anything Leto can think to say only sounds patronizing. I'm glad you're accepting them in your life or you deserve to be loved both feel too heavy-handed, and so he simply thinks them.]

Is that the smutty one or the one where there's a lot of pirates?

Is the cat girl in it?

[First of all, Catti-brie isn't a fucking tabaxi.

Honestly, he does like Drizzt stories. The trouble is, he likes them a lot better when it's Astarion describing them and Leto can curl up against him and sort of doze as he listens. Actually sitting down and reading them . . . well, it's not nearly the same, and anyway, they're so goddamn long.]

Anyway, I am in the midst of reading it. Simply because you had two hundred years of literacy does not mean it comes so easy to all of us.

[HE WAS AN ILLITERATE SLAVE ASTARION it's like you don't even respect his trauma.......]

Edited 2025-11-22 03:49 (UTC)

I dare you to say that in front of Gale.

Or his cat.

[The first cat he's ever met he does not care for. Why is she so strait laced and prone to tattling?? If Astarion wanted a mother about peering over his shoulder, then he wouldn't have gotten murdered.]

Gods. It's the one with the romantic subplot and sweeping sense of—

I'm sorry did you just

'cat girl?'

his girlfriend

[Just in case Astarion might not remember a major character— or historic figure or quite possibly currently still alive figure, it's hard to say, maybe he'd know if he read the other books.]

And I'll tell Gale and his fussy cat anything you please, so long as the reward is sweet enough.

You are a child.

[Kirboface.jpg]

[He starts to write out a child you, and then scribbles it out. No.]

it's a strange practice to name your child Cat in a world in which there are, in fact, cat people in this world

it's like naming your child Elvendork.

[LETO NO.]

IT IS NOT. CAT.

IT IS NOT CAT ANY MORE THAN MY NAME WOULD BE ASS AND YOU KNOW IT. ARE YOU ILLITERATE STILL?

[Don't think you're cute. Not even with dog ears will he let this stand, kadan!!!!]

Riled thing, don't say that aloud or your name will be Ass to the pups for the next month.

[And Leto will laugh himself sick at piping voices repeatedly chirping Ass, Ass, and Astarion will bite him until he dies, and then it'll be a whole thing.]

Read it aloud to me tonight. You can satisfy yourself with emphasizing her name anytime it comes up— but I like those stories a great deal more when you read them to me. Even if his father was still the best character.

[Rip Zak he'll never be over your death.]

Is that what you're sore about?

[ Call it a truce that he's deliberately ignoring the looming danger of hearing 'ass' chirped over and over again in pup yip format, and making no mention of what a joy it might be to read to an audience that wags during all the best storyline beats.]

You liked his father best?

[It will be wagging up a storm tonight, and only partially for the most exciting parts. Give Toril this: it's given him remarkable insight into Ataashi's fits of wriggling joy whenever either of them come home.]

A weaponsmaster who fought through a society that disdained him, imparting his viewson his son and giving him hope to break free and forge a new path? Yes, I liked him best.

[Is that weird? Not that Leto identifies with him, no, but the fact they're discussing what was, by all accounts, a real person . . . then again, the man must have died more than a century ago. It's probably fine. It's just odd, that's all— especially when Fenris has experience with being turned into a literary character.]

I like Drizzt, too. I like a majority of them. But thusfar, he is the one I find the most interest in.

Are drow truly like this? Have you ever met any?

[There's Dal, of course, but she doesn't count.]

Edited 2025-11-23 22:14 (UTC)

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this tag is called "fenris explores his limits on rpf"